Paredon, Mexico.... |
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pancho
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- Friday, January 13 2006, 3:21:43 (CET) from 201.137.165.142 - dsl-201-137-165-142.prod-infinitum.com.mx Mexico - Windows XP - Internet Explorer Website: Website title: |
...right around the mountain and across the dessert from where my ranch is. I didn`t know this sleepy, adobe bricked town was the seat of the Mexican Revolution...at least it was the staging area from which the various rebel leaders assembled their men and women and horses in secret to begin the Revolution. The Revolution was fought in the north...it was started by cattle ranchers and farmers and peons of the north...two of the most famous generals to assemble at Paredon that day were Francisco Villa, also known as Pancho...and Emiliano Zapata. They brought their women with them to fight and love alongside...that`s where the name "Adelita" came to mean woman Revolutionary. They still have the locomotive sitting there, that drove them out that day...to Saltillo where one of the first battles was fought. It`s sad that the place is so neglected, but then it`s good that almost nothing has changed...there`s still a wide, dusty field in front of the rail station...across the way is a row of adobe buildings which must have been there then as well..there`s a bar, now called Pancho Villa...but the store has no soft drinks to speak of and only a few bags of chips...very few people were out and about, old gnarled doors to mysterious places out back long ago abandoned...a very old woman showed me the first phone station and the huge apparatus was still there, in a corner...long out of use. There`s a newer part to the town but there`s really nothing here for the younger people to do...except move out. Some day it might be a tourist attraction....but that`s a long way off. There are tall trees here and there...so easy to picture the rebels....the horses must have kicked up serious dust clouds...the men, their bandoleros, rifles...pistols...unlike the American Revolution, these guys LOOKED tough...they carried the most romantic of all weapons...guns and holsters...graceful sombreros...silver conchas sewn to tight pnats...guitars always. The train pulled boxcars some of which you can still see along the siding...the open cars carried the horses...the boxcars were for the men and women...they stopped for meals...the torillas patted into shape and cooked over campfires along the tracks...they`d halt outside the town where government troops awaited them and unload, then mount up and attack...they were successful for the most part so the train just rolled through the town and picked the men and women up at the other end. The mountains around here are delightful...the cacti of all sorts of variety...I walked today on the top of the mountain, under the sea...along the cliff face and in the smoothed out bottoms of arroyos you can plainly see thousands of seashells embedded in the rock....ages ago...millions of years, this was the bottom of an ocean...these shells are of the critters who died and sank to the bottom, settling in the sediment....millions of years later the ocean was gone...cactus, so much like underwater plants, took over...sediment dried out and became sandstone...volcanoes came and went and mountains pushed up from below the crust...I found a closed mussell shell....the critter died and remained shut...wonder what`s in it? A little further along I found a perfect, unbroken, sea shell....a gentle spiral, filled with sand inside...it was at the bottom of an arroyo....rain water had gouged out the rock surface for centuries...just in back of the place where the horses are kept...uncovering a perfect sea shell...miles and ages away from any sea...a perfect shell, except it`s surface is a soft matte pearl...the shine and polish long ago worn away...it`s a treasure all in itself. I live at the bottom of the sea, on top of a mountain...I`m going to sculpt on top of a mountain at the bottom of the sea... --------------------- |
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